


the world you desire can be won

by geez



Series: it exists, it's real, it's possible, it's yours [3]
Category: Daredevil (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, daredevil - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Frank takes the lord's name in vain but it's totally for a good reason, Karen Page is awesome and full of light, They kiss and it's glorious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-31 01:26:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6449959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geez/pseuds/geez
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The world keeps spinning and life goes on except now Frank Castle spends most of his time not beating the shit out of people with Karen “Shining Light of the World” Page. And it's nice. It's the most peaceful he has ever felt since he held his baby girl's lifeless body in his arms. </p><p>They don't do much except for this little game where they try to find the greasiest diner they can and then see how much coffee they can stomach. Frank’s currently three for three; he's stupidly proud.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the world you desire can be won

**Author's Note:**

> This is the final work in the "it exists, it's real, it's possible, it's yours" series because I believe in trilogies. I would just like to say thank you so much for the amazing response to these stories! I love this fandom and this ship so much and I can't wait to write more for this amazingly complex couple! 
> 
> Enjoy! Please comment to tell me what you think!

_“The world you desire can be won. It exists, it’s real, it’s possible, it’s yours.” -Ayn Rand_

The world keeps spinning and life goes on except now Frank Castle spends most of his time not beating the shit out of people with Karen “Shining Light of the World” Page. And it's nice. It's the most peaceful he has ever felt since he held his baby girl’s lifeless body in his arms. 

They don't do much except for this little game where they try to find the greasiest diner they can and then see how much coffee they can stomach. Frank’s currently three for three; he's stupidly proud. “What's your favorite color?” He turns his eyes towards her, stopping his perusal of the other patrons. No one is a threat to them. She's just sitting there, coffee cup cradled in her hands, so pretty. So _happy_. Swear to god, each time he sees Karen he thinks she’s somehow gotten brighter, as if she's a battery charging with all the goodness in the world until she bursts. Maybe that's just how he sees her now. Lord knows she would probably shoot him if he ever told her any of that. 

“What’dya say?” He can't remember- too busy in his own head. 

Karen just huffs out a laugh and quickly glances around. It's not the same way he does, she doesn't look for any threats, not this time, she's just glancing at them, probably not even seeing anything. “I asked you what your favorite color is.” 

“Orange.” It's his turn to laugh at the look she gives him. Frank's halfway sure he could've said pink and Karen would have looked less alarmed. “It was- my girl, Lisa, she came home from school one day and, and this is a girl whose favorite color was always purple, a little princess, but she comes home and says ‘Daddy, my favorite color is orange now.’ So I ask her why and she said that no one else ever said their favorite color was orange and she felt bad for it so now it was her favorite.” He feels his face twist in something that's too sad to be an actual smile and something in him wants to stop talking but he sneaks a glance at Karen from under the brim of his hat and her pretty blue eyes are brimming with tears, a small smile on her face. He keeps talking. “What kind of little girl changes her favorite color because she feels bad? She was just, so extraordinary, my Lisa. So anyways, she asked me if I would make orange my favorite color too and how could I say no?” In his mind’s eye he sees Lisa the way she was that day, so innocent and happy and _alive_ that his gut clenches. God, but he misses them. 

He's startled out his thoughts when Karen covers his hands with her own, stopping the rhythmic tapping. “She sounds like she was lovely, Frank.” 

“Yeah...yeah.” _She would've liked you._ He doesn't say it, not now, doesn't wanna ruin it. Doesn't wanna lose the feeling of Karen’s warm hand on his. 

“My favorite color is blue. But Tiffany blue, you know? I was obsessed with Audrey Hepburn when I was younger. I still watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s whenever I'm sick. There's nothing better.” 

Frank appreciates the subject change. He can't talk about his family too long before he completely loses his shit. “Yeah?” He says with as much of a smirk as his bruised cheekbone will allow. 

“Yeah.” Now, you see, this happens sometimes. They won't be talking about anything special but they’ll lapse into these silences, filled with everything he wants and everything she could give to him, and suddenly his head swims like when Red lands a punch and his heart races the way it did when he saw Maria walking down the aisle. In these silences, Frank is so in awe of Karen Page that he can’t breathe. 

Because he wants her so goddamn much and she makes him feel again and he knows without a shadow of a doubt that he _cannot let her go_. If Karen Page ever decides she doesn’t want Frank Castle in her life, he’s ninety percent sure the part of him that is human will just cease to exist. He looks away from her to the clock over the counter and sees that it’s midnight. They’ve been here for two and a half hours. Jesus. “You should probably get home, ma’am. It’s late.” 

Karen looks perplexed before she too notices the time. “Oh, yeah, you’re right.” But she looks just as unwilling to leave as he feels. She takes a few bills out of her purse to leave on the table before standing. “It was good seeing you, Frank.” Karen smiles, briefly, brightly, enough for him to be blown away, as she walks toward the door. His dark eyes follow her wistfully, knowing full well he’ll be leaving a minute later to make sure she gets home safe. He’s plotting the route most likely to not get him caught when Karen abruptly turns back and marches towards him. “You should walk me home.”

It’s not a question, or even a statement, it’s a goddamn command and something about that just makes him laugh. “Ma’am, yes, ma’am.” He stands, gives the waitress a nod, and follows Karen out the door. She waits for him a beat so that they can walk side by side and Frank remembers this. He remembers walking a girl home after a date, desperately searching for something to say before the silence gets awkward. The thing about this, about being here in this moment with Karen, is that the silence isn’t uncomfortable at all but he still wants to hear her lovely voice, to know what she’s thinking. Turns out he doesn’t have to ask, she’s perfectly fine telling him exactly what’s going on in her mind. 

“I know I should probably hate this place, because of everything that’s happened to me, but I still find things that I love about it. I mean, yeah, everyone has this predisposed notion of how New York is and maybe some of it is right but then I turn a corner and there’s a diner like that or someone performing on the street and I think, it’s not all bad.” She shoots him a smile, slightly closes the space between them. “There’s something magnetic about this city, something that draws people here, and I think that has to count for something, don’t you?” 

He shrugs, eyes scanning the alleyways for threats. “No offense, sweetheart, but this city could burn to the ground and I wouldn’t shed too many tears.” 

“I don’t think that’s true.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because you’re still trying to save it.” Karen says, firmly. He looks over at her and sees that her face is deadly serious. “If you really didn’t care, I honestly don’t think you’d be going out every night, risking your life, to stop the people who are trying to ruin it.” 

“I think you got me and Murdock mixed up there, ma’am.” He snaps. “I do what I do because the scum that infest this city need to be stopped and the best way to do that is to put bullets in ‘em. I don’t got no ideas about me being a hero or the greater good. I’m just doing what I know how to do.” 

“God, Frank, I know you’re not Matt. No one is trying to make you be him. But there has to be a better reason for being the Punisher than just stopping criminals.” 

“Why?” 

“Because you’re a better man than that, Frank.” And he sees that awful, familiar expression on her face. The one she has whenever she’s trying to save him. They’ve stopped walking for the moment, even though he knows they’re not too far from her apartment, and Karen’s looking him in the eye, fiercely determined to make him believe he’s a good man. 

Frank tilts his head, for once not angry at her declarations. He’s confused. How can she possibly think he’s a good person? Why on earth does Karen think his fucked up mess of a head is capable of coming up with a better reason than _They’re bad, kill ‘em_. “How do you know?” 

“I wouldn’t feel the way I feel about you if you were really a bad man, Frank. If you were the monster you try to convince yourself you are than I wouldn’t meet you for shitty coffee and ask you what your goddamn favorite color is. I mean, Jesus Christ, Frank, what do you-” She stops short, takes in the fact that he is now standing _much_ closer to her than he was a couple seconds ago. “What are you doing?” 

“I was thinking that I should probably kiss you before you change your mind.” He can feel her breath on his lips, can smell the ridiculous creamer/coffee combo that’s three parts creamer, one part coffee on her breath. All he can see is the flecks of varying shades of blue in her eyes. God, if she isn’t the most beautiful thing in the world. “That okay?” Karen closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, nods. And then Frank finally kisses those lips that he’s been fantasizing about for what feels like centuries. 

Her lips are so soft. 

She waits a moment before responding, not long enough to be nervous but enough to notice, but when she responds...Jesus _fuckin’_ hell. Her hands graze up his arms before settling behind his neck, drawing him closer, and he finally puts a hand into her hair, the other guiding her cheek for a better angle. They’re both ravenous for each other, the outside world means nothing because all he can think about is how soft her mouth his, how lovely her hands feel on him, how he never wants this to end. Of course, they have to breathe sometime. She pulls away but doesn’t go far, just rests her forehead against his. “So this is happening, then?” 

He hums deep in his throat, still blissfully content with where he is at the moment. “Damn well better be because I can’t go through life only having kissed you once.” 

She pulls back and looks him in the eye. The damned smirk on her face should be illegal. The mischievous gleam in her eyes gives him pause. “So romantic.” 

Frank laughs. “Get used to it, sweetheart.” 

Karen smiles gently and dips back in for a quick kiss. He chases her lips with his, can’t get enough. He’ll probably never have enough of her. Karen turns her head, takes his hand for the first time ever and sets off for her apartment. “Come on, if you’re not going to behave we should at least be indoors.” 

Frank just smiles and grips her hand tight. He doesn’t plan on letting her go.

**Author's Note:**

> A couple days ago someone made a Kastle gifset with the Ayn Rand quote that I used for this series, you can view it here: http://franksasstle.tumblr.com/post/142038242880/do-not-let-your-fire-go-out-spark-by 
> 
> You can also follow me at kamlo-ren.tumblr.com


End file.
